


Birds of a Feather

by FrillyHeathen



Series: This Might As Well Happen [1]
Category: Persona 5, Persona Series
Genre: Akechi Goro Needs Therapy, Akechi Goro and Sakura Futaba Are Half-Siblings, Akechi's Trust Issues Say Hi, Angst, Bonding, Fluff, Gen, Only implied though - Freeform, Pre-Canon, Sad Ending
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-16
Updated: 2020-09-16
Packaged: 2021-03-06 23:15:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,229
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26487034
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FrillyHeathen/pseuds/FrillyHeathen
Summary: He should have just gone straight home. Maybe then he would never have had to meet her.
Relationships: Akechi Goro & Isshiki Wakaba, Akechi Goro & Sakura Futaba, Isshiki Wakaba & Sakura Futaba
Series: This Might As Well Happen [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1925578
Comments: 7
Kudos: 59
Collections: Quality Persona Fics





	Birds of a Feather

Goro smoothed his hair down again. He was trying to grow it out, and right now it was at an awkward phase where it just barely stuck out below his ears, but still got messed up by every passing breeze.

He had been standing outside of the building for too long. It was getting close to dinnertime, but he wasn't eager to go back to his empty apartment and microwave whatever frozen meal he could find. His mind was still reeling after the meeting with that despicable man. Every second he spent in the presence of Masayoshi Shido made him want to peel off his own skin, or set himself on fire, or jump headfirst through the glass walls of the office; anything to be away from his biological father.

He dug his nails into his palms and hoped that the pain would clear his head. 

There was a woman standing a short distance from him that had been on a phone call ever since leaving the building. Part of the reason he had lingered for so long was because he knew that he recognized her, but couldn’t remember from where. 

She had shoulder-length black hair, glasses and a stern face that meant that she was all business. Goro had met a lot of people like that growing up; they usually weren't pleasant to be around.

The woman turned her head, and her sharp eyes met Goro's. He looked away, pretending to check something on his phone. Any other day he would have plastered on a smile and made some light comment about the weather, anything to justify staring at her. Right now he was just too tired.

"Excuse me, but did I see you leaving Shido’s office earlier?"

He was startled to hear a cool voice come from the woman's direction. There was no one else around, so she was definitely speaking to him. When he looked back up at her, he suddenly remembered why she looked so familiar.

Goro had been so focused on not blowing a fuse when leaving Shido's office that he hadn't even paid attention to who was next in line to speak to the almighty douchebag himself. The woman had slipped under his radar, and now he had to deal with it. Which led to another question, who was she?

"Ah, yes I was," he said, as politely as he could muster.

"What business does Shido have with a child?"

It wasn't said coldly, but matter-of-fact. Goro still bristled.

"My apologies, but that's not information I'm privy to share," he said tightly. He didn't like the look that the woman was giving him, like she was trying to read him. Whatever she found, it made her face soften. He liked that even less.

"I expect that you wouldn't want to speak with a stranger. My name is Isshiki Wakaba.” She stepped forward and extended a hand that Goro hesitantly took.

The name did ring a bell; she was a scientist studying cognitive psience. He had heard Shido mention her before in passing. The man liked to take a lot of phone calls while Goro was still in the room, just to imply that his time and presence wasn’t important enough to consider.

“Akechi Goro,” he said in return. The new surname still felt weird on his tongue, but he had gotten used to it much quicker than expected. 

An odd look passed over Isshiki’s face when he said his name. Whatever the reason for it, she didn’t say. She let go of his hand and asked, “Are you heading home for dinner?”

“Yes, just going back to my apartment for the night.” He was eager to have this conversation over with; after an entire day of plastering on a fake smile, the one currently on his face was beginning to ache.

“Do you live with your parents?”

The question threw him off a little. “Ah, no, I live by myself.” 

“In that case, would you want to join me for dinner? You look like you could use a good meal.” 

If the first question threw him off a little, this completely knocked him over. Isshiki looked completely earnest, despite the absurdity of what she had just asked. Why would she ask a random teenage boy to have dinner with her? The thought crossed his mind that this was a test from Shido--it seemed like the kind of weird mind game he’d pull, though Goro couldn’t imagine the purpose of it.

Enough of his mind was functioning that he instinctively started declining. “Oh, no I couldn’t-”

“You wouldn’t be a bother. It’s just me and my daughter, and we wouldn’t mind the company.”

That made him pause. Her being a mother could explain why she was making the offer. A skinny teenage boy that lived by himself was probably the perfect sight to trigger maternal instincts. It made more sense than her being sent by Shido, but it made him infinitely more uncomfortable.

It was still possible that she had an alternative motive, though. Even if she wasn’t lying about having a daughter, being a mother didn't mean that she wasn’t capable of cruelty. Goro knew first-hand that parenthood didn’t make people any kinder.

Just as he was about to speak, two men in suits walked past. They were some of Shido’s men. Neither of them gave acknowledgement to Goro or Isshiki, but he still felt uneasy at the sight of them. Isshiki shot a quick glare at them from the corners of her eyes.

"You don’t have to take the offer, but know that it’s there.” She pulled out a pen and a small piece of paper from her purse, scribbled something down, and handed the paper to Goro. Then turned around and walked away.

There was an address and a phone number on the paper. Goro glanced at Isshiki's retreating form and shoved the paper into his pocket. He started walking back to his apartment...

And twenty minutes later ended up on Isshiki's doorstep. It was a small, two-story house, not too far from where he lived. In the moments after ringing the doorbell, he wondered if it was too late to back out.

The door opened, and his fate was sealed. Isshiki smiled and looked very pleased with herself when she stepped aside for Goro to come in.

The inside of the house was nothing extraordinary. The walls were decorated by a few pictures, the front hall had a small bookcase that was filled to bursting, and everything else looked fairly minimalist. Similar to Goro’s apartment, except this was probably an intentional design choice.

Isshiki stopped in front of the staircase. “We’re having udon tonight, but I have some work that I need to finish up first. You seem like a very patient kid, so I’ll--”

"Mom! Mom! Mom!"

Goro heard the sound of tiny footsteps barreling down the stairs, and Isshiki's daughter came flying around the corner.

The girl was short, skinny, and pale. She had straight, black, waist-length hair and glasses. In that sense, she looked like a miniature version of her mother. She was wearing a long white robe with decorations on the collar and belt that told him it was meant to be a pharaoh's outfit. It looked like a cheap Halloween outfit, and he wasn't sure why she was wearing it now.

Her eyes landed on Goro, and subsequently widened to the size of dinner plates. She went perfectly still, as if he wouldn’t see her that way.

“Hello there,” he said.

She let out a tiny squeak and scrambled back up the stairs. 

Isshiki chuckled. "Futaba is a little shy around strangers. I warned her that we might have a visitor, but I don't think she was paying attention. I’ll go speak to her.”

“Oh, it’s no problem at all. I understand being a little shy.” He wouldn’t be upset if he didn’t have to spend any amount of time with Isshiki’s daughter. “Though, may I ask about the outfit?”

“Futaba’s gotten really interested in Ancient Egypt recently. She loves dressing up in costumes like that. I suppose it’s strange for a kid her age, huh?”

“Not at all.” Each polite word had to be forced out of his throat like there were covered in barbs. The blood pooled into his mouth, threatening to spill out of his lips each time he spoke.

“You can watch TV in the living room if you would like. Futaba would usually be doing that right now, if she wasn’t such a scaredy-cat.” There was an undeniable fondness on her face whenever she talked about her daughter.

Goro agreed with a smile, unable to say anything else without fear of spitting blood all over her floor. Isshiki showed him the living room and then left. He wasn’t upset to lose the company--if anything, he was upset that she would be that trusting of him. She worked with people like Shido, and she was just leaving Goro alone in her house. How negligent could you be?

He did a quick sweep of the living room before checking the rest of the bottom floor. There was nothing glaringly suspicious that he could find. He suspected that most of her work was upstairs, probably in a locked room where her daughter couldn’t reach it. 

Goro grudgingly returned to the living room. He sat down on the couch and grabbed the remote, turning to whatever channel seemed the most painless. He clicked past all the mindless interviews and juvenile game shows, hesitated on a news channel until he saw that they were talking about such-and-such corrupt politician (as if they weren’t all irredeemable scum), and stopped on a screen full of bright, flashing colors.

It took him a moment to recognize it. It was an episode from the original _Phoenix Ranger Featherman R_. He hadn’t been born yet when it was first airing, but he had grown up on recordings of it.

He remembered friends at school (classmates, more accurately; Goro didn’t think there was ever a time where he was actually friends with people his age) eagerly talking about the newest reboot. Desperate to be in the loop somehow while not having cable, he asked his mother if they could buy a DVD of the new series. She said no at the time, but when his birthday came around there were two VHS tapes wrapped up on the kitchen table. It wasn’t the reboot, but the original series with all its poor effects and hacky acting. Despite that, he found himself watching and rewatching each tape with vigor.

Even though he knew they were tight on money, and even though he knew it was selfish, he wanted to ask his mother if she could buy the other episodes for his next birthday.

He didn’t get to spend another birthday with her. 

He didn’t realize that he was spacing out until he heard someone shuffling towards the living room, and he had yet to change the channel from Featherman. He picked up the remote and was about to, when he heard a soft, “Oh!”

It was Futaba. He didn’t turn around, even though that was probably all it would take to scare her off. It’s not like there was anything else he could do in this house except wait; he might as well tolerate her presence for now.

Goro set the remote back down and let it continue to play. Time to see whether or not Futaba would be drawn to the clearly dated show. Propping his elbow up on the couch arm, he rested his head on his fist and kept his eyes on the screen. He could vaguely remember this episode. 

Slowly but surely, Futaba crept closer. Goro felt the cushions dip as she sat down at the opposite end of the couch. He spared a glance at her. She had changed out of the pharaoh outfit into shorts and a hoodie. She was sitting with her legs drawn as close as possible to her chest.

After a few minutes of neither of them saying anything, it seemed like that was how they were going to spend the evening. Goro didn’t mind the quiet--it filled the air better than any forced conversation could, but it clearly made Futaba nervous.

She started nervously chewing on the ends of her hair. He could hear the quiet smacking and could see the saliva on her hair when he glanced over. He ignored it at first, but the noise slowly filled him with festering rage. It was unsanitary, disgusting, completely vile, and--

He pushed down the revulsion that was rising in his chest. Screaming at the host's daughter for chewing her hair probably wasn't the best course of action for him. He tried to distract himself by focusing on Featherman. It was a re-run of an episode that he had seen a number of times.

“Who’s your favorite character?”

Futaba's voice was soft, and it took him a split second to realize that the girl had spoken at all.

"Oh, well I've always been a fan of Red Hawk." The calm and collected leader had never been at the top of popularity polls, but Goro had always felt a pull towards him. Ever since he was young, part of him wanted to be just like Red Hawk. He felt comfortable in the way that he related to the character, unlike with Black Condor, whose storylines often hit a little too close to home.

Futaba just looked him up and down and said, "Yeah, you seem like the type." She nestled further into the couch and fixed her eyes on the TV again. "I like Blue Swan 'cause she's the smartest."

"That is very fair reasoning, though it is a shame that she's not as smart in the original as she is in _Neo Featherman."_

Now Futaba looked at him with stars in her eyes. “You watched that too?”

“Um, yes? To be honest I thought that it was implied with my knowledge of the original series that I would know the reboots.”

“I thought that you just watched the original because you were old!”

First off, he couldn’t have been more than two or three years older than her. Second off, he asked, “How old do you think this show is?”

Her cheeks turned a shade of red and she got very quiet all of a sudden.

He expected for them to lapse into another silence, but to his surprise Futaba spoke up again.

"Can I call you Goro?"

_No, no you cannot._

But he could keep playing friendly. He gave her his best fake smile and said, "I see no issue with that."

Futaba didn't look thrilled like she was supposed to. Her eyes searched Goro's face, and then she deflated like a sad balloon. "I don't have to if you don't want me to," she mumbled.

She was more observant than he gave her credit for. He could plaster on a more convincing smile and insist that it was fine, but she wouldn’t fall apart if she couldn’t call him by his given name. So he leaned back onto the couch and fixed his eyes on the TV.

A few minutes passed, and Futaba's new anxious action was rocking back and forth. It made the whole couch creak as she moved. Surprisingly, Goro found himself feeling increasing twinges of guilt instead of irritation as time passed. It was his fault for making her nervous again. He was trying to think of something he could say to try and calm her down, when the next episode started playing, and he let out an audible groan.

“Did they just skip to the wedding episode?”

“Yep,” Futaba said. She stopped rocking to give him a curious look. “You hate it, too?”

“I don’t hate it; the episode itself is fine, but the romance between Hawk and Swan is just…” He can’t even think of the right words to express his disgust.

“It feels pretty forced,” she agreed, “like they were just trying to subvert expectations by not having him end up with Pink Argus.”

“I’m glad that the writers for _Neo_ realized how unnecessary it was. At least the dumpster fire arc with Argus and Owl was kept in the background of season 2.”

“I don’t know, I kind of liked the romance with Argus and Owl. It was handled really messily, but you could tell that they really cared about each other. It was better than what they did with Feather Shoebill and--”

“Don’t remind me of that. I didn’t think it was possible to mutilate her character as much as they did that season.”

“ _Right?_ Why would she go back to him after everything he did? She should have dumped his sorry butt into the ocean.”

The intro finished and the episode began to play. From the first shot, Goro was ready to nitpick.

“Why are they having a beach wedding when they had that entire desert episode where the characters were complaining non-stop about the sand? And is that really what he’s going to wear to his own wedding?”

Futaba snickered. “I was so happy when Black Condor crashed the wedding to warn them about the kings coming. Remember when the kings were threats before _Neo_ totally nerfed them?”

Goro snorted, and he was amazed to find that the small smile pulling on his lips was genuine. 

They continued complaining about the episode, and Futaba interrogated him about his feelings about _Featherman Victory_ and the newest incarnation. There was a brief argument about which red ranger was best--Goro would stand beside Red Hawk, but Futaba accused him of being too nostalgic. Before it got too heated, they were distracted by Black Condor’s entrance in the episode.

“Finally, I don’t think I would be able to stand the sappiness any longer,” Futaba said.

Goro was so focused on the screen that he didn’t notice when Isshiki walked into the room. 

“I hate to interrupt you two when you’re having so much fun,” she said, “but dinner’s ready.”

Futaba jumped up and grabbed the back of the couch, leaning over it. “Aw, but Mom! Can’t we eat in front of the TV?”

Isshiki raised an eyebrow. “Not with what happened last time, and especially not with a guest over.”

“I promise that I won’t spill again! And Go--I mean, Akechi wants to keep watching too, right?” She hit him with the biggest, neediest eyes he had ever seen. Truthfully, a large part of him wanted to keep watching, but he would never express that childishness. Isshiki stepped in before he had to pull out any more lies.

“Don’t drag him into this, Futaba. Now go wash your hands.”

The girl grumbled, but did as she was told. Goro followed suit, and soon he was seated at the table with a bowl of udon in front of him. Immediately after saying her thanks, Futaba started shoveling noodles into her mouth at an impressive speed. He couldn’t tell if her lack of shame was because she was somehow comfortable around him, or because she genuinely lacked that amount of self-awareness.

Isshiki chided her, and Futaba slowed down her noodle consumption slightly.

Goro wasn’t sure what they were supposed to talk about; he couldn’t discuss Isshiki’s work with Futaba around, and he couldn’t continue talking about Featherman with Futaba when he wanted Isshiki to view him as an adult. 

Futaba, surprisingly out of her shell now, did most of the talking.

“I’m gonna get my hair dyed soon--I’m thinking orange!”

“Today we had a math test. It was really easy so I don’t know why they gave it to us..."

"Why are people always so rude in online games? They're games! You should be having fun!"

Goro was the last to finish eating, and Futaba practically jumped out of her chair when he did. “Come on, let’s go watch some more!” Her eyes were filled with so much joy just at the thought of watching Featherman with someone she just met; he got the feeling that she didn’t have many friends.

“Actually, Futaba,” Isshiki said, “I would like to speak with Akechi first. Why don’t you see if they’re still playing episodes?”

Futaba’s energy dropped tenfold, like she was ashamed by her own enthusiasm. “R-Right, I’ll go do that. Sorry, I know you don’t want me bothering your work stuff…”

Isshiki placed a hand on her daughter’s cheek and smiled warmly. A strange feeling bubbled up in Goro’s chest. He stood up and started clearing the table where Isshiki had left off. Meanwhile the woman spoke to Futaba in a low voice. He only caught a few of the things she said.

“You’re not bothering anything, dear...just a quick conversation...I promised, didn’t I?”

Then she placed a kiss on Futaba’s forehead and sent her off to the living room. 

They finished cleaning up in silence. When they were done she asked, “Would you like anything to drink?”

“No thank you.” Even if he didn’t have the instinct to immediately reject any offers, his stomach was so knotted that he didn’t think he could drink anything without getting sick.

Isshiki smiled again, but it lacked the warmth that she gave Futaba. “I take it that you’re like me, straight to the point. In that case, I know that you can access the cognitive world.”

Goro felt his entire body go ice cold. He leaned back against the counter as casually as he could, and gave her a sheepish smile. “My apologies, but I’m not sure what you’re talking about.” 

“I don’t expect you to tell me anything, or even to listen to what I’m about to say. I’m not here to interrogate you, I want to help you.”

It was so obvious, and he was so stupid for not seeing it before. Isshiki was studying the cognitive world; she knew who Goro was, and had made up an excuse to corner him here. “Not here to interrogate him”? What horseshit. 

The worst part was that she insisted on looking so earnest. As if she hadn’t brought him here for her own personal gain. "I don't know how you ended up associating with Shido, but you should stop now. He’s not the kind of man you want to get mixed up with, especially at your age.” 

_You think I don’t know that?_

As pleasantly as he could, he said, “I appreciate the concern, Ms. Isshiki, but there is no need for it. I don’t know what you’ve heard, but I barely speak with Shido. Today was a bit of an anomaly in that regard.”

“You don’t have to listen to me, but don’t insult me by lying to my face.”

He didn’t flinch. The fake smile was finally allowed to drop from his face. “I am well aware of the risks I run in working with Shido,” he said flatly. “Your interference is not necessary.”

Isshiki didn’t try to conceal her skepticism. “I predicted that you would say something like that. You have my phone number, so at least--”

“I should be leaving now,” he interrupted. “Thank you for having me.” He walked out before he could see her expression.

He expected for her to follow, to yell or try to grab him. His body tensed in preparation, to shove or run or do anything else to get away. When he made it to the front hall, however, Isshiki was not behind him. He started shoving his shoes on when a small face peeked around the corner.

“Are you leaving already?” Futaba asked.

“Yes.”

She flinched, and he felt a twinge of guilt for his snappy answer. 

“Oh, I thought maybe we could watch more…”

“My apologies, but I have to be home soon.”

She looked down at her feet and poked at the floor with her toe. “Um...would you want to come back sometime and do it again?” She tilted her head and peered at him hopefully through the curtain of her bangs.

“I don’t think that can happen.”

After finally forcing his heel into his shoe, he grabbed his bag and opened the front door. He spared one glance back at Futaba before leaving.

“B-Bye,” she said, not looking up from her feet.

“Goodbye.”

He didn’t look back. He was going to crumple up the piece of paper with Isshiki’s number and throw it away. He was going to forget about tonight, and if he ever saw her again he was going to walk in the opposite direction. He didn’t look back, because he knew that if he looked back he would see Isshiki standing in the doorway, an undeniably sad look in her eyes as she watched him walk away.

* * *

He knew that it would kill her.

At first, he liked to pretend that he hadn’t known. He had been tricked by Shido and the scientists, and there was no way he could have known. But that was a lie, and one that he quickly squashed. Pushing the blame onto others--he wouldn’t survive if he had that kind of weak mentality. He had killed Isshiki Wakaba, and there was no fine print that could change that fact.

It would be worth it in the end, when he finally got his revenge on Shido.

It had to be.

**Author's Note:**

> In my documents this is titled, "Futago Sibling Rights" and I kind of wish that I kept that name. This was meant to be cheerful, but as you can see, I accidentally made it sad. Sorry about that. Akechi's self-destructive tendencies strike again. 
> 
> I was thinking about it, and I came to the conclusion that Futaba would definitely remember this interaction after Akechi joins the team and it jogs some memories, but if she ever tried to bring it up he would pretend to not know what she's talking about. Because he is petty. She then proceeds to goad him by constantly talking about Featherman, but only the things she knows will irritate him. Because she is also petty.
> 
> Anyway, feel free to leave any comments or criticism that you like! I hope you enjoyed this fic, and have a lovely day!
> 
> (Making up stuff about Featherman was my favorite part of this, and I might have to make an excuse to do that in future fics.)


End file.
